


A Matter of Mistaken Identity

by Catbunblue302



Series: Whump for Bunnies [4]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Cages, Gen, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, Mistaken Identity, One Shot, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26811955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catbunblue302/pseuds/Catbunblue302
Summary: Y'know those bad days where you're stuffed in a dog crate and accused of murder? Yeah Sniper's having one of those bad days.(Now updated to have proper spacing between the paragraphs)
Series: Whump for Bunnies [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949197
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	A Matter of Mistaken Identity

Sniper’s head hurt, his back hurt, and his knees hurt. Actually everything hurt and ached and throbbed but those three things hurt the most. He groaned and buried his face in his hands, trying to get away from the harsh light. The marksman stretched his legs out only to have them hit something before they stretched out fully. He opened his eyes. Was he in a bloody dog crate?

Sniper shifted about onto his hands and knees and discovered yes, yes he was. And the door had a padlock on it. Well wasn't that real bloody grand.

He hadn’t had a dog growing up but he had had a hutchful of rabbits. The bit with bars could be taken off of the base. Sniper reckoned a dog crate oughta work the same way. He wrestled with the bars of the crate for a while, his face pressed up against the thin bars so he could see what he was doing.

Eventually he realized dog crates didn't work like that or this specific dog crate didn't.

“Piss.”

The crate was just big enough for him to turn around on his hands and knees and just tall enough for him to kneel hunched over. His struggle to find a vaguely comfortable position while he waited for his captors to show themselves ended with him sitting slouched, his legs stretched as far as they had the room. Sniper wished he was as short as Engineer right about now.

The aussie hadn’t the faintest how he’d wound up here. He remembered finishing the match, which they’d lost, and heading off to his van as he usually did before supper. And then nothing. He hadn’t made it to his van, he remembered that much, but nothing beyond that.

Sniper drummed his fingers against his leg as he waited for his captors to show up. If you kidnap a bloke at least have the decency to show up. Better yet don’t kidnap a bloke and off him proper like.

He was idly wondering if the Doc would be nice enough to remove his spine and replace it with one that didn’t hurt all the time when the door opened. He squinted at the person in the doorway trying to recognize them. He hadn’t a clue where his glasses were. Or his hat and vest for that matter.

“Do you know who I am?” Asked the presumably male person leaning against the doorframe.

“Listen ‘ere, ya bloody drongo, where do ya get off kidnappin’ folks and stuffin’ em in cages like bleedin’ dogs?” Sniper growled.

The man ignored him and reached into his coat pocket. He crouched in front of the crate and held up a photograph. There was a woman in her thirties smiling at the camera, sitting on a bench in some park.

“This is my daughter. You shot her. You’re going to die for that.”

Sniper squinted at the picture.

“Mate, I’ve never seen that sheila in my life.”

He startled back as the man slammed his palms against the bars. “You fucking liar! My baby girl is dead because of you and you won’t even fucking admit it?”

He seemed to suddenly get ahold of himself and he rose to his feet, tucking the photo into his chest pocket. “It doesn’t matter that you won’t admit it. You’ll be dead within five minutes.”

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re gonna kill me based on what evidence?” Sniper called frantically to the retreating stranger.

The marksman grabbed the bars and tried with renewed vigor to wrench them free, to get the door to open, anything really. Respawn wouldn’t catch him this far from the base.

Sniper had never really thought about the fact of his death. Respawn had desensitized him to the idea. But now he was forced to think about it. The worst part was he didn’t know what was gonna kill him. Poison? Fast? Probably not. Whenever it started to take effect he was going to be in agony for the last minutes of his life.

Piss, piss, piss, piss, piss, pi-

What was that?

“Scout?”

He couldn’t quite tell but it certainly sounded like Scout. And the blurry humanoid shape that darted into the room sorta looked like Scout.

“Found ‘im.” Scout said into his headset, and then to Sniper. “Hi, yeah, we gotta run. Buildings gonna blow up.”

Oh.

“There’s a padlock.” Sniper said obviously. He was too stunned and overwhelmed to say anything else.

“Shit. Spy, come gimme a hand with this!” Scout called back into the hallway.

Spy hurried in and made quick work of the lock. It clicked and fell to the ground.

Spy opened the door of the crate. “Can you walk?”

“Think so.”

Sniper’s knees buckled under him the first time he tried to rise. The second time they held and the three of them ran from the base. As they ran Sniper recognized the building as some sort of converted warehouse. Parked across the road just outside was the bread delivery van with Engineer at the wheel and Demo in the passenger seat.

“Hurry up lads, we don’t have much time left!” Demo called.

Sniper, Scout and Spy hopped into the back of the van where Sniper’s legs promptly gave out. Spy, who was the closest, caught him, grunting under the Australians weight as he helped him to the floor.

“Where are you hurt, Herr Mundy?” Medic was on him immediately, shooing Spy out of the way, and pressing his fingers to the side of his neck.

“Nowhere, I think. My back hurts like hell though. Was in a bloody dog crate. Need a ciggy.”

Spy took his cigarette case out and offered him one. Medic took just long enough away from checking Sniper’s blood pressure to smack it away.

“Don’t you smoke one of those either, dummkopf. We’re in a van.”

“How’d ya find me?”

“We were notified an unregistered vehicle was on the base. Unfortunately we were unable to come after you immediately as all of the cars on base had their tires slashed.” Spy explained.

Scout cut him off. “We thought we were never gonna see ya again but then Engie said that Medic had put in-tern-trans-locaters in us so then he showed us a fancy map with little glowing dots on it and we drove here and we rescued you. Of course we did cuz we’re awesome.”

“Quite.” Spy said, with disdain, probably because Scout had interrupted him.

“Ya put trackers in us doc?” Sniper stared at Medic.

Medic giggled. “For medical reasons.”

Sniper wasn’t all that surprised, if he was being honest.

When they arrived on base Pyro practically tackled him on site. Sniper hadn’t thought Pyro liked him that much. Hell, Sniper hadn’t thought Pyro acknowledged he existed. Sniper awkwardly patted Pyro's back. It had been a long time, maybe never, since he hugged someone who wasn’t his parents.

Pyro let him go but as they did they grabbed his hand and clung to it like it was all that stood between them and death.

Sniper looked up to see that the rest of the team was standing around him, looking relieved and happy to see him.

Engineer handed him his sunglasses with a smile.

“Good to see ya still alive, Stretch.”

And so it went, the team ensuring he was okay and in the case of Demo a barely comprehensible speech about how much he loved him, which ended with a sloppy hug, Demo pronouncing ‘if I wasn’t the man I was I’d kiss ya’, kissing him anyway, and passing out on top of him.

Later in the evening Sniper stood outside, with a cigarette. Growing up he’d been picked on and teased for not being as strong and muscular as the other kids. He’d had few friends and they never lasted long. He took a deep drag off the cigarette and breathed smoke out into the cool night air. It was nice to have friends. Even if one of them was a spook. A spook who was invisible a few meters off and giving it away by the smoking cigarette in his mouth.


End file.
